


you're the one i want now, you'll never do wrong

by wardrobelarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Drunk Niall, Harry in sheer tops, M/M, its short sweet FLUFF, just read it please, larry one shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 14:17:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5051662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wardrobelarry/pseuds/wardrobelarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall is drunk and he calls two of his friends to pick him up. It's a union Niall may or may not have planned beforehand, but who knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're the one i want now, you'll never do wrong

**Author's Note:**

> heYYY i actually finished something wow though it's incredibly short ?? i just never ever finish fics like ?? anyways i really hope you all like this, its just plain louisandharry functioning in the amazing ways they do and brief Niall encounter. The title is from the song "Make You Holy" by The Staves, which is a great song btw. Home came out and it just got me pumped so here i am 1:36am writing this. ENJOY

Louis was just about to fall asleep when his phone starts violently vibrating on his bedside counter.

He contemplates ignoring it but remembers the last time he did, Liam ended up getting lost in the city and sleeping on King Street for a cold, long night after his date left him in a restaurant he drove him to. Liam didn’t talk to him for a solid week after that.

So, reluctantly, he reaches over, cracking a few bones in his back in the process and retrieves his phone. He swipes the screen and brings it to his ear.

“What?”

“Tommooooo!” A loud voice yells down the line. Louis winces away from the phone.

“Niall. Please don’t tell me you’re drunk again at-” Louis pulls away to look at his phone screen, “Two in the morning?” He whines disapprovingly.

“Lou, I’m telling ya, I found this sick pub at the corner of town, you’re coming here with me one day! One day, I tell you.” Niall bellows, the music in the background almost drowning out his voice. Louis wipes his hand down his face.

“How many drinks have you had?”

“I donno, one, two, eleven? Doesn’t matter, I’ve got everything under con-...is that me pants?” Niall hollers. Louis groans, and starts to put his shirt on.

“You need me to pick you up.” Louis walks out of his room, already searching for his car keys. He grabs his wallet from the coffee table and the keys from on the sofa.

“Ah, Tommo. What a man needs in his life.” Niall says and Louis sighs, defeated. He’s already on his way out of the flat.

“ _Who._ ” Louis corrects, but shakes his head at the worthlessness of that action. “Text me your location.”

“Comin’ right up, sir!” Niall hollers once again and the line goes dead. A few seconds pass until Louis’ phone dings with the text. Reading the address, he curses under his breath seeing that the place is at least a twenty-minute drive from where he is. He shuts the door to his car and turns on the engine anyway.

Nearly half an hour later, he arrives in front of a pub booming loud music and even louder cheering. He feels a headache coming as he steps out of the car. He approaches the blonde-headed fellow who’s currently slumped over some other guy’s shoulders.

“I’ve got him, thanks.” He says, and tries to take over the uncoordinated dolphin-like creature. When Niall was pulled away from him, he looks up, surprised.

“Excuse me, what are you doing?” The other man asks. His voice is insanely low, and he has a head of curly locks that Louis shouldn’t be so endeared by. His eyebrows are furrowed, looking at Louis with a confused and defensive expression.

“Um. He’s my friend. He just called me to pick him up.” Louis explains, reaching out again for Niall.

“No, wait. He called _me_ to pick him up.” The other man argues.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think—”

“Look, if you’re here to fuck with him, I suggest you leave and find someone else to entertain yourself with. Thanks.” The other man spits. Louis’ mouth drops open, looking at him shocked.

“Okay. Look. We both know the one who’s trying to fuck with him is you. So _I_ suggest _you_ to fuck off and stop harassing a clearly pissed-off-his-arse Irish bloke.” Louis says, and all he gets is a very disapproving look from the other man that strangely reminds him of his mother’s cat.

“Well, I—”

“Aye! Lads!” Niall suddenly bursts out, and giggles. “So I might have accidentally called both ‘a you.”

Louis says nothing. The other man also stares at Niall, silent.

“Anyways! Tommo, Hazza. Hazza, Tommo.” Niall shouts, gesturing between a lamp post nearby and the ground. Louis simply stares at the other man, trying to process the situation.

“What.”

“You’re Niall’s friend?” The other man asks.

“He..he’s my flatmate. And you’re…?” Louis says.

“We take the same course. Photography. He’s my senior.” The other man explains, and Louis just nods slowly. Processing the information.

“Well then. I’m Harry. Harry Styles. You are?” The other man—Harry—grins at him with his hand extended, his previous intimidating air gone. He has a dimple on one of his cheeks.

“Louis Tomlinson.” He takes Harry’s hand and shakes it. He has big hands. Long fingers.

Louis shakes his head immediately.

“Right. So this is pretty awkward.” Louis says as he retreats his hand to rub it behind his neck. Harry cackles, head thrown back and his neck fully exposed. Louis looks away at Niall who’s throwing up in a drain nearby.

“I wouldn’t say it’s awkward. Just interesting. An unusual way to meet an attractive man. In the right place at the right time, I’d call it.” Harry says, and smirks playfully at Louis. Louis’ mouth opens and closes repeatedly, completely taken back by his response.

“Oi, lads, can I go home now? Or are you lot going to have a quickie in the toilets? Just walk in straight and to the left. It’s pretty clean. I’ll wait here. I give you ten minutes.” Niall calls out to them, lying on his back in the middle of the walkway. “Ten minutes!” Louis laughs, and Harry just flushes.

“Nah, not today, Niall. Maybe some other time.” Louis says looking at the green-eyed boy in front of him, turning away immediately when he stares back at him. “Let’s get you home, Niall.” Harry walks away from Louis to Niall, pulling him up by the arms.

“Woah, too fast, bro!” Niall manages to scold before turning to the right and going another round. Harry immediately leaps away, shrieking. Louis looks at the sickly green substance that litters the ground and cringes.

“Right. So you’re here now, you deal with that. Goodnight, all.” Louis rushes out, stepping over the mess towards his car. “Goodnight!” Niall calls after him at the same time Harry yells “but he lives in _your_ flat!”

“ _Goodnight, all._ ” Louis emphasizes again and quickly gets in his car and speeds off.

 

~

 

When Louis wakes up the next morning, it’s to a sun shining too bright through his window and an incredibly sore neck. With a wince he climbs out of his bed in his sweats, hand on the right side of his neck, massaging. He walks out of his room with his phone in his hand, scrolling through Instagram and perfect pictures of what everyone’s eating for breakfast.

Walking towards the kitchen, he sees movement in the corner of his eye. He looks up.

And screams. And drops his phone.

Harry turns around so quickly and his eyes widen impossibly big at the sight of Louis. Louis screams even louder. “Oh shit,” Harry says, realising what was on display before grabbing the nearest dishcloth and covering himself.

“Why the fuck are you _naked_ in my kitchen?” Louis shrieks, covering his eyes with both of his hands.

“I’m so sorry, I forgot you lived here.” Harry gushes. Louis doesn’t move his hands.

“What do you mean ‘I forgot you lived here’?”

“Um. Niall’s used to it. Um. I like to be nude. I’m nude in my flat like, all the time. He hangs around there, so he’s seen it and he’s—”

“No! I mean, how could you forget I live here?” Louis shouts. He hears footsteps thudding towards the living room.

“I come here all the time! Niall lets me be nude around here—”

“ _Naked._ ”

“ _Naked,_ around here and so I’m used to it. And you’re never here, anyway.” He hears Harry sigh. “You can open your eyes now.”

Louis slowly separates his fingers and peeks out of them. Once he’s satisfied that Harry is now fully clothed, he drops his hands. He’s still glaring at Harry when Harry guffaws out of nowhere. Head thrown back, neck fully exposed. Louis is reminded of the night before.

“What?” Louis asks, a little annoyed yet endeared at the same time. He waits for Harry to stop.

“Oh my god.” Harry wheezes in between his laughs.

“It’s not funny.” Louis spits.

“No, come on, just admit it, it’s pretty hilarious.” Harry laughs again. He’s bent forward this time, hand clutching his stomach. Louis finds himself chuckling along a few moments later, finding Harry’s laugh too contagious to ignore.

“Fucking hell. Seriously, Harold. It was just there, dangling like a fucking church bell.” Louis says in between his chuckles, causing Harry to double up in laughter again. It feels nice, Louis thinks. He’d like to make Harry laugh again soon. Again, again and again.

“My name’s not Harold.” Harry says, when he finishes laughing and wipes off a few tears.

“Sure, Harold.” Louis says and walks back toward the kitchen. “Why are you here, anyway?” He turns around and asks, realising he hasn’t actually got a legitimate understanding of this situation.

“I was too tired and it was too late last night for me to drive back home so I just decided to bunk in here. Because _someone_ completely ditched his drunk mate in the middle of the street for his other mate to bring home despite the fact that they basically live in the same building.” Harry says, glaring at Louis while he snickers. He turns back into the kitchen, satisfied with the explanation.

“Yadda yadda yadda.” Louis teases. “Well, what have we got here?” He muses as he looks over what’s on the kitchen counter.

“Breakfast.”

“Isn’t breakfast like, cereal and milk? Or toast, if I’m determined enough? What in god’s name is this?”

“Apple and blueberry tart.” Harry states simply. Louis looks over at him as he shrugs.

“It’s not that complicated.”

“We had blueberry in our flat?” Louis is incredibly confused. And hungry.

“Eat.” Harry says, sitting on one end of the kitchen counter.

“Gladly.” Louis sighs. He sits opposite Harry and takes a bite of his tart. He moans, and hears Harry’s light chuckle floating in the air around them.

“Can I, like, lock you up in here so you can cook all my meals for me for the rest of my life? And as a bonus do my laundry as well because you seem like the person who would.” Louis says, and Harry erupts in giggles. Louis smiles as well, focusing on the one dimple on Harry’s left cheek, trying to store it in his mind as something to think about when he’s frustrated.

“You basically summed up married life.” Harry chortled, taking another bite of tart. Louis grins, amused by Harry’s sense of humour. He shakes his head and looks back down at his plate.

“I’m pretty sure there’s much more to it than that.” Louis says after a few seconds, glancing up at Harry to see him staring intently at Louis. He quickly looks away, feeling somehow exposed under Harry’s gaze.

“Will you marry me?” Harry blurts after a prolonged silence. Louis chokes on tart, hand on his chest and sputtering out crumbs.

“ _What?_ ” Louis manages. He takes a swig of water and looks at Harry, incredibly puzzled. Harry only stares back, looking at Louis like he’s trying really hard to read him.

“Like, let’s say, we were in one of those dumb reality TV shows where complete strangers literally get married without ever meeting one another. And you’ve got me. Would you marry me or bail out?” Harry asks, seriously. He watches Louis searchingly, looking all over his face for an answer.

“Um.” Louis says. “What?”

“Answer the question.” Harry says, like it’s the most simple and obvious thing in the universe.

“Um.” Louis says again. He looks at Harry, then at the wall, then at Harry. “Yes?”

Harry nods, smiling. He seems satisfied with Louis’ answer, and continues eating without uttering a word.

A minute or so passes, and Louis starts chuckling. He finds himself grinning like mad, completely drawn to Harry’s way of words and questions. Harry looks up and starts laughing too as though Louis’ were infectious.

“You’re one weird child, Harold.” Louis says. And Harry just nods agreeably. Louis thinks he’s interesting. He wants to keep him. He wants to know what questions he’ll ask next, or what jokes he’ll crack next. He wants to be there the next time Harry says something amusing or strange.

He decides that, he will.

 

~

“Harold, please do not—”

Harry turns around and leaves, straight into the dressing room—that has a fucking sparkly door like how did Louis even end up here—and locks it behind him. Louis sighs. Two weeks into meeting the kid and Louis is already following him into stores like “Pink Ice” or “Dotti” because he wants a _sheer top_ and he can’t get any in men’s stores.

He hears the cling-clanging of hangers against hooks. Then a bang and a crash.

“For god’s sake Harold—”

“I’m fine!”

Louis reaches a stool nearby and sits on the dusty thing. He stares at his wiggling toes under his shoes, furrowing his eyebrows. He looks at his nails, picks at them for a bit, and lets them go. He looks up, catches a teenage girl eying him with distaste, and rolls his eyes. He looks at the door of the dressing room Harry is in, and sees the shuffling movement of his shoes from under it. Louis chuckles to himself. Of course Harry’s dancing in there.

If he concentrates hard enough, he can hear Harry humming, the velvety sound tucked under the shuffling of his shoes and chatter in the shop. It’s a classic Stevie Wonder tune, and Louis almost hums along. He smiles suddenly, staring right at the centre of the sparkly door.

It swings open.

Harry steps out next to it and looks around for a split second for Louis. His eyes land on him and immediately turn to face him while fiddling with his shirt.

“Do you think it’s too sheer-y? Or not sheer-y enough? I don’t know but I really like how it’s sheer at the front but not at the back and also these red flower things and…” Harry looks up slowly at Louis’ lack of reply.

“What?” Harry asks when he catches Louis simply grinning at him. “Lou, what?” He lets out a confused chuckle.

“Will you be my boyfriend?”

Harry’s smile falters, but that only lasts for a second before it comes back full force. He starts giggling, looking right at Louis with a sort of soft look in his eyes. His hair falls from the top of his head and flows down his face. One of his hands instantly reaches up to push it back up, all the while still looking at Louis. His head tilts to the left like an amused puppy. His dimple is showing. Louis might be in love with him.

“What do you think of my shirt?”

 _Wait, what?_ Louis hesitates.

“What do you mean—”

“Do you like it?” Harry says, still grinning like a child. Louis is so confused.

“Harry, I just asked you—”

“And I just asked you if you like the top.”

“Um. Yes?” Louis genuinely did like the shirt. It was a woman’s top, but since when did things like that stop Harry. It was collared and the whole thing was black. The front was sheer, save for a few red flowers near the bottom. He could see Harry’s chest and stomach tattoos through the shirt, and they contrast so beautifully with the vibrance of the flowers. He thought it was perfect.

But he wasn’t really wanting to express his love for the top because _he just asked Harry to be his boyfriend and Harry is not?? Responding?? The way Louis hoped????? What is happening._

“Nice. I thought so.” Harry smiles and makes his way back to the dressing room. Louis is going to cry.

Right before he goes into the dressing room, though, Harry whips his head around and looks at Louis puzzled.

“Well, do you want to come in and make out with me or what?” Harry grins when Louis’ jaw drops. “Boyfriend?”

 _Fuck you, Harold._ Louis thinks. _Fuck you._

He fucking giggles and follows Harry into the dressing room though, closing the door behind him. He grabs Harry by the waist and gently pushes him against the mirror. Harry’s letting out these breathless chuckles that’s tugging at Louis’ heart and making him _ache_. Before he knows it he grabs Harry’s cheek and surges up to kiss him. Harry responds with a little satisfied hum, and Louis thinks he’s going to explode so he presses on firmer.

He pulls off softly, and Harry’s staring at him with blown pupils.

“I hate you.” Louis says.

“You love me.”

And Louis thinks he does. He’ll tell him one day, three weeks later when he wakes up and sees Harry’s soft, golden-lit face beside him, with his tangled hair resting over his cheek. He’ll tease Harry with soft kisses all around his face and when he wakes with a giggle Louis will say it. He’ll say it almost in a whisper, but Harry’s eyes will shoot open because he’s heard it loud and clear. He’ll say it back and they’ll kiss all morning without a care for morning breath and a starving Niall. He’ll do it, and it will be the best feeling but now, now he’s got a blushing Harry against a mirror in a dressing room giggling against his shoulder. And now, now Louis will just kiss him and buy him that damn top.

**Author's Note:**

> leave comments, give a kudos blabla i'd reaaally appreciate it :) byeee ill be back soon with another one shot, hopefully ;)


End file.
